


As I lay sleeping

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: The real nightmares come after you wake up.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	As I lay sleeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juliet316](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliet316/gifts).



Ianto woke from slumber and cracked an eyelid open. It was still dark, meaning there were hours yet until the first shards of morning light would start breaking through the shuttered window of his flat. Jack was fast asleep next to him, under the covers. As he moved his hand from across Jack's chest where it had been resting, it brushed over his stomach, his t-shirt having ridden up during the night.

Ianto traced his fingers gently up and down the exposed flesh, soft and warm. Jack was ticklish, but Ianto's touch was gentle enough that he didn't stir awake. The slow up and down movements were hypnotic and soothing at the same time, his hand mindlessly drifting whilst he began slipping back into the clutches of sleep.

In Jack's mind he was dreaming, or thought he had been, when he began to feel the gentle sensations on his torso. Suddenly, the image of The Master flashed before him and he knew what came next.

The Master had tortured him endlessly during the year that never was, but always found new and interesting ways to inflict damage. Oftentimes though, he would revert to tried and true pleasures, choosing to prolong Jack's suffering for as long as possible. He would taunt and tease long before committing to the final act, which would sometimes be shocking and instantaneous, but most times, slow and excruciating. Just the thought of those fingers tracing over his abdomen filled him with a sick dread. He knew what came next, but would the blade be laced with poison to make it a quick death, or would he bleed out slowly and painfully as it was twisted by deft hands, tearing at the flesh inside? All he knew for certain was that the blade would be sharp - incredibly so.

He felt his pulse begin to race in anticipation, and then realised something else. His arms and legs were unchained and unfettered. He wasted no time, thrusting himself forward against his assailant.

Ianto was caught by surprise as Jack's body propelled his own across the bed and onto the hardwood floor below, knocking the air out of his lungs from the impact. Immediately, Jack's hands were tightly wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard. Ianto was shocked at the vice like strength of Jack's grip, as if he were possessed by some other being. He struggled and flailed against Jack, but Jack was lying on top of him and his weight and bulk were easily pinning him down. He kicked out and managed to knock one of Jack's legs out from under him, causing even more of his weight to drop on top of him.

Jack pulled a hand away from his neck to grab at the arm that was trying to get at him. The Master wouldn't get him this time. He was going to get out of here and save The Doctor. He moved his other hand away from the Master's neck and shoved his forearm hard up against his windpipe, effectively blocking off his breathing, and was pleased to hear the choking sounds that were all he could manage.

Ianto struggled on. Something was very wrong with Jack, but he could barely get enough air in his lungs to cry out his name. He was sleepwalking or trancing or possessed or something.

Jack's arm against his throat was heavy and solid. Dark spots were beginning to dance in front of his moonlit vision as he gagged against it, and the lack of oxygen in his brain was making his struggles uncoordinated and ineffective. As his efforts began to wane, his arms and legs grew weak and almost ceased their battle against Jack's force. Jack seemed to sense it. Victory was almost within reach.

The Master was his now, Jack thought ruthlessly, and the arm he'd been holding down finally conceded defeat, falling uselessly to the floor. Both hands now free against his weakened foe, he cupped one behind his head, the other underneath his jaw. He'd promised The Doctor all those months ago that if he ever got the chance, he'd break the Master's neck, and now that was exactly what he was going to do. He'd do it for Gwen and Owen and Toshiko and Ianto, who'd all been tortured and killed by The Master before his very eyes. He'd avenge their deaths if it was the last thing he ever did.

The rush of adrenaline surged through him at the thought of his team and of his lover. It shot into his brain like a bolt of electricity and brought clarity to his mind, but when he looked down, no longer did he see the twisted evil face of The Master, about to face justice, but the face of his young lover, gasping and pleading him to stop, helplessly pinned beneath him, and having the life crushed out of his body by Jack. Some part of his brain snapped and realised that this was no nightmare. This was real, and in being real, was worse than any nightmare he'd ever had.

He recoiled suddenly, jerking away and realising that he'd been acting out his nightmare. He pushed himself as far away across the floor as he could until he was backed up against their bedroom wall, breathing hard and in shock at what he'd almost done. He'd been just seconds away from violently twisting Ianto's neck, snapping the vertebra cleanly in two.

Ianto felt the weight lift from his body, as did the pressure on his airway and he slowly began gasping in tentative lungfuls of air. He was disoriented and confused. What had happened? Jack, he suddenly remembered. He struggled up from the floor and found Jack on the other side of the room, curled up in a tight ball on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. He crawled over and wheezed his name, reaching out to touch him, not fearing any reprisal. Jack didn't scare him, only what was happening to Jack scared him. Jack shuddered at the sensation of Ianto's touch, body shaking hard, fully aware now of what had happened. He was a ticking time bomb of violent, uncontrolled rage, like a wild animal. He knew the nightmares were bad, but if he'd thought that Ianto might come to harm as a result, he would have never let himself near their bed.

Ianto didn't need to try and understand exactly what had happened. It was enough to suppose that this was connected to what had happened when Jack had gone away. He hadn't spoken about it other than to indicate that bad things had happened. There'd been nightmares along the way, but he'd never woken from them, so Ianto had simply held him tight until the thrashing in his sleep had abated. They never discussed it the next morning. Ianto wasn't even sure that Jack was conscious it had happened. And Ianto knew all too well the signs of post traumatic stress.

The flat was bitterly cold, Ianto realised, once the adrenaline had stopped pumping through him, seeing the icicles forming on the window pane above. They were both dressed in nothing more than t-shirts and pajama bottoms, both having been sufficiently warm underneath the covers until now. Ianto reached up and pulled the duvet down from the bed, huddling it around himself and Jack, as Jack continued to sob into the embrace of his lover.

Jack tried to pull away but it only made Ianto even more determined to grip him tightly and not let go. His was a different kind of grasp and he wouldn't let go until Jack reciprocated. Jack's shaking finally abated and he unfurled himself, hesitantly sliding murderous hands around his lover's waist. It was only then that Ianto realised he too had been shaking, though he couldn't say exactly why. Perhaps it was just shock.

There were no words to be said, nor explanations to be made. Not now, anyway. There'd come a time tomorrow when such things would be necessary, and the bruises would be clear for all to see, far beyond what could be laughed away as rough play, but for now they were content to be huddled together under the covers, waiting for the morning light to chase away the darkness.


End file.
